


Happy Baby Farts!

by CaptainSchmoe



Series: Stuff Inspired by Stuff from This Little Septiplier Community That I’m In [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Babies, Baby babble, Breakfast, Dogs, Family, Farting, Fluff, M/M, Mild Illness, Pranking, Slice of Life, Snuggling, Tickling, Whipped Cream, Wholesome, parenting AU, very much inspired by Ken and Mary’s baby vlogs, vlogging - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainSchmoe/pseuds/CaptainSchmoe
Summary: Mark and Seán v-log about the Dad Life.Today, everyone’s just trying to rest and recover from a stomach bug that plagued them all recently. At least Sammi is a happy baby, and that makes Mark and Seán happy dads.





	Happy Baby Farts!

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when Mark calls Cloak his and Seán's baby multiple times.

_Yaaaawn!_ “Mornin’, everyone,” Mark greeted the audience in a husky whisper. Gray light from out the bedroom window graced his drowsy, slowly-blinking, lightly-smiling face. He stretched his free arm above his head, taking care not to smack the still-sleeping Seán behind him, and glanced over to his alarm clock offscreen. “It is 5:28 a.m. right now, and I’ve been hearing...” He pointed the camera over towards the opposite wall. Baby babbling was audible from beyond. “...some activity going on across the hall for the past ten, fifteen minutes or so.” He returned the camera to his face. “So I should probably take care of that.“

 

* * *

 

Mark pushed open the door to Sammi’s room, the soft pastels of the flower gardens on her walls grayed out by the dim morning light. Sammi herself was lying back, talking to herself and occasionally munching on her sleeve. Her head snapped towards Mark as he entered.

“Hey, Sammi,” he said in his higher baby voice. “You awake?”

Sammi repeatedly slammed her legs against the mattress, grinning and panting through her wet sleeve.

“You’re so happy! And you don’t stink this time!”

“Hnnnn!”

“Yeah, you didn’t do a huge poop on me like you did on Uncle Tyler last night?”

Sammi blew bubbles.

“You probably did a little something, though, so let’s get you all clean and fed! Yeah, you excited?”

 

* * *

 

The camera approached Sammi in her high chair, dressed in a fresh gray onesie with a pair of happy zebras on it, and already with breakfast laid out in front of her. “What do we got here? We got some Cheerios, some little chunks of banana, little bit of egg in there...”

Sammi shoved a spit-covered, banana-filled fist into her mouth, staring up at the camera.

“Nom, nom, nom, nom. That good stuff? Oh!”

She suddenly flung her hand to the side. The unsuccessfully-eaten banana was quickly lapped up by an eager Chica.

“Well, I guess you’re getting breakfast, too.” The camera panned over to the toaster. “Meanwhile, I’m gonna be having some toast. Just something a little light to go easy on my stomach.” He snapped the camera back to his face. “It’s been a rough week. But... I mean, look at that.”

He pointed the camera towards the patio door. Outside, the rising sun had turned the cloudless sky a brilliant pink.

“I live for this kind of stuff. I like when- If you live by a river, and you look out at it or drive by it out in the early morning, and you see the mist rising above it? I love that. There’s not really any rivers near where we live, and I kind of miss that. But I still get a good sunrise, at least.” He pointed the camera back at himself, revealing his plain white T-shirt, navy blue plaid shorts, and a black blanket draped over his shoulders. “There’s just something kind of... healing about early mornings. I love it. I love the vibe, I love quiet, the fact that it’s just me and Sammi...” The camera went down to Henry at his side. “And you. You want some food?” he asked, laughing a little. “You want some- some food from me? You afraid of getting bossed around over there by the big, bad Chica?”

Henry’s ears perked up and his head cocked at the second “you want”. As if on cue, the toaster popped.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give you some of my toast.” Mark ripped off and held out a morsel of hot, golden-brown toast, which Henry delicately plucked from his hand. “There you go. That’s a good boy.”

Slamming and rattling brought his attention over to Sammi slapping her tray and rattling some Cheerios off. Chica snatched them right up.

“You’re feeding her more than you’re feeding yourself. Don’t you want to grow up big and strong like your dads?”

Sammi just stared with a banana in her fist and her fist in her mouth.

“Don’t ya?”

No response.

“You seem to be feeling better, at least.” To the audience, he explained, “Poor Sammi got a stomach bug a few days ago, and she _of course_ passed it on to me and Seán. Tyler was nice enough to offer to babysit while we were wallowing in vomit and misery, so... We made it. Hope he doesn’t catch the plague.”

Sammi kicked her legs against the chair as she pondered which piece of food to nab next.

“Everyone was just sad and tired and in pain this whole week - I actually hurt just a little bit still - so I think we’ll use today as a rest day. No morning run, none of that. Just...” He panned the camera back to the outdoors. “Take in the day. Maybe watch some Netflix. We’ll see.”

 

* * *

 

The next scene was significantly brighter - must have been a few hours.

“I think Seán’s awake now, or he should be awake now,” Mark whispered as he stood next to their bedroom door, “so we’re gonna sneak in and say hi and then maybe I can get a nap. Heheh.” He turned to Sammi. “You ready? Let’s go say hi.”

He clicked open the door to find Seán sprawled out, awake but still trying to work up the motivation to get out of bed. The bug did a number on him to bring his energy down this many notches - even the beam of light shining directly into his face wasn’t spurring him into action.

“Look who’s here!” Mark said in his baby voice. “You’re awake!”

“Morning.” Seán put on a weakened smile, the best he could do in such a state.

“You feeling okay?”

“My throat still kinda hurts. Well, mostly it’s just scratchy.” It was apparent to Mark and the audience from how raspy his voice was and how he kept it low. “But I got a bottle of water over here.” He lifted it off the nightstand. “And I can actually keep it down now, so that’s helping a little.”

Mark set Sammi sitting upright on the bed beside him.

“Hi, sweetie. How ya doing?” He reached out to her chin for a playful scratch.

“Mmmmm.” She made a move towards him, leaning onto her arms and falling over onto her side.

“Oops!” Seán chuckled, ruffling her hair. “One day you’ll get how this whole ‘crawling’ business works.“ He paused and nodded at her. “One day.”

“She’s been trying. She’s at the point where she kinda knows what she’s trying to do, but ends up just helplessly flopping around like a fish in the mud.”

Sammi rolled onto her stomach towards Seán, staring him down directly in the eye. Perhaps not wanting to back down from a challenge by the pint-sized terror, Seán pushed her onto her back, grabbing and jiggling her belly. Sammi squealed.

“Ngah-ngah-ngah-ngah-ngah...”

“Hnnnnngggg!”

Seán’s fingers drifted up to her neck. “Tickle, tickle, tickle.”

“Gggghhhh...” Sammi squirmed and compressed herself, vainly attempting to defend herself against the Tickle Monster. _“Aaaahhhh-hahahaha!”_

Already tuckered out, Seán let up and gave her belly some friendly pats.

“You’re such a cutie. You know how cute you are?”

Immediately, Sammi responded by picking up her legs and letting out a huge fart.

Both dads busted out laughing. Seán covered his face and turned away from her.

“Oh, God, right in my face!”

“Oh, if the camera didn’t catch that, I’m gonna-”

She let rip a second one and giggled.

“-be so _-o-o-o_ mad!”

Seán buried his face into the safety of his arms, his body wracked with laughter.

“What a response to that,” Mark said. “‘Heck yeah I’m cute!’ _Pfffffffttttt_.”

“Think I...” Seán rolled over and patted her back. “Think I might’ve jostled her a bit too much. You got more in there? Is that all of it?” Still laughing, he prodded some fingers around her diaper. “It _was_ just a fart, right? We good? I think we’re good.” He asked Mark, “What did you feed her?”

“I guess Cheerios are made with beans now. Beanios.”

“Beanios! Did you eat some Beanios, Sammi?”

“And a bean-ana.”

“A bean-ana, too? Jesus, Mark.” Seán stretched and flopped onto his stomach with his arm across Sammi. _Yawn._ “I’m assuming you want me to take over dad duty?”

Sammi yawned in return.

“Yes, pretty please?”

“Mm, but I’m gonna have to go pee first.”

“Well, you know where the bathroom is.”

Seán briefly met eyes with him, then pushed himself off the bed.

“She could go for a nap soon, so it shouldn’t be too difficult for you.”

 _Streeetch._ “I’m sure I’ll survive.”

Sammi stared at the bathroom door after Seán disappeared behind it, eyebrows furrowed.

“Sammi? You- You seem offended that he left you behind here.”

She looked up at Mark, same confounded expression on her face.

“Poor thing. I don’t do you like that.” He patted her belly. “Nope! I mean, except when I go back downstairs in a couple minutes, but I don’t ever do you like that! I would never!”

 

* * *

 

“She really likes _Invader Zim_.” Seán pointed the camera first to the show on their bedroom TV, then to Sammi, who sat mesmerized with wide eyes. “She doesn’t do this with any other show. Any other cartoon comes on, she doesn’t care. _Invader Zim_ comes on, and it’s like a switch goes off in her brain and she goes into this sort of trance.” He tried grabbing her attention by flapping her arm. “Psst. Hey. Sammi. Saaa-mmiii.”

No response.

“See? She loves her _Zim_ even more than she loves her dad.” He started sniffing in fake crying. “Why don’t you love me, Sammi? Am I not good enough for you? Answer me, Sammi! Tell me you love me!”

No response.

“...Or not. That’s fine, too.”

 

* * *

 

Seán tiptoed down the stairs. “Okay,” he whispered, “so I just put Sammi down for a nap, and it sounds like ol' Merk’s asleep on the couch.”

_Snore...! Snore...!_

“So I wanna do something.”

He went to the kitchen, pulling a container of whipped cream out of the fridge and opening it. As he walked back to the living room couch, he stuck his finger in it, dug up a fat helping of it, and booped Mark’s nose. And cheeks. And forehead. And bearded chin. And he rubbed the dots all around his face, covering as much skin as he could, and Mark kept snoring away, unaware of the pokes and stifled giggles happening right on top of him.

“Okay. Now, I’m gonna go wash this off, and I’ll also have to get the dogs upstairs so they don’t lick him.” He gave the audience a mischievous grin. “Let’s wait and see how it goes.”

 

* * *

 

_Big sigh._

“So. I woke up from my nap earlier and found...” Mark pointed the camera at his done, cream-smeared face. “... _this_ all over my face. And...” He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Sometimes I have to question my choice of spouse. But I look like I’ve got a face mask, at least.” He turned his head from side to side. “I ought to be baby-soft by now.”

The camera cut to him with a sandwich - ham and cheese - in hand, seated at the kitchen island, with all the cream still intact. “But good news: my stomach isn’t hurting at all now, so... It was hurting a tiny bit earlier; not too bad. Last night, I could barely even stand up, I was in so much pain. But today, I’m doing way better. I think Seán’s doing better, too.” He took a bite of the sandwich and swallowed. His face scrunched in minor disgust. “Probably not the best idea to be eating this with cream on my face. Hang on.” He tried to lap up as much off his lips as he could using only his tongue, making short, pathetic grunts with each swipe. “There we go. I think I got it as good as I’m gonna get it. But like, yeah, we’re all doing a lot better today, and we should get back into recording by tomorrow, or sometime soon, so...” Thumbs-up. “Look forward to that.”

 

* * *

 

With his face now cleaned off, Mark nestled in bed, with him and Seán on their sides facing each other and Sammi wedged in the space between them. The camera was strategically held on Mark’s leg, behind Sammi so she (probably) wouldn’t see and try to grab it. It seemed to be later in the afternoon, with the light still very present but no longer beaming down onto the bed.

Seán rubbed a hand over Sammi’s head, sending her hair every which way, and grinned to himself at the mischief he was inflicting on their poor baby.

“You know,” Mark began, “I don’t normally like times when I’m forced to not do anything active or productive, but at the same time, like... This is nice. Just being with my family. Even when they fart on me and spread whipped cream all over my face.”

“I had to. And she farted on me, not you.” Seán caught sight of Henry and Chica padding inside offscreen, and patted his leg. “Come on! Come up here!”

“Brrbbrrbbrrb.” Spit bubbles dribbled out of Sammi’s mouth.

Seán furrowed his brow and pinched the front of Sammi’s onesie, wiping her mouth off. “Ew. You're gross, kid.”

The mattress under Seán and Mark’s legs dipped down as the dogs clambered onto the bed.

”She farts on me plenty of times,” Mark clarified.

Maybe it was due to still being in recovery, but Mark’s voice was oddly deep and sentimental for that kind of a statement, and Seán seemed to detect that, lifting his head up and focusing on him.

“You know, I’ve been wondering for a long time what it would be like to have a kid. And I was always scared I’d never have the time to properly spend with them and also do this.” He gestured to the camera, the audience. “But we made it work. We’re making it work.” He met eyes with Seán, emphasizing the togetherness. “And it’s not easy. Having a baby really tests your patience. With the baby, with each other...”

Seán nodded.

Sammi cooed and glanced backwards, catching sight of the camera and, as predicted, making a grab for it.

“No, Sammi.” Mark raised it above himself. “You don’t get a camera at your age.”

She swiped at it. “Mmm!”

“Ha! Can’t get it when my big dad arms come into play, can you?”

“Wait until you’re at least three or so,” Seán said. “Then we'll get you an iPhone.”

“Uh...” Mark squinted at him. “That’s a... step in the right direction, I guess?”

Seán chuckled.

“But, like I was saying, I... It’s times like these, these sorts of down times, where I am able to just think about what’s here around me: the husband I have, the daughter I have, the dogs I have, the house I have, and I...”

A smile broke across Seán’s face. Chica planted herself right square up against Mark’s thighs and butt, while Henry was just barely visible off-camera at their feet.

“I’m really happy. Even despite the arguing and the stress and the sleepless nights, at the end of the day, I’m so much happier with them than without them. I'm way happier now than I was a few years ago.”

Sammi belly-flopped up towards their faces.

“I just love this family.” Mark gazed lovingly down at his baby girl, squirming and bobbing her head.

“Ah. Ah. Aahhh-oh.”

Then, at Seán, who rested his head on its side, cheeks plump from the smile still beaming as bright as the midday sun.

“I’m happy, too.”

 

* * *

 

“So.” The three of them now sitting upright, the mood back to its normal, upbeat self, Mark began the end of the vlog, one arm draped around Chica’s neck. “I think that’ll do it for this video. We’ll keep you posted on how we’re doing plague-wise. Like I said, it’s way better today than it has been.”

Seán bounced Sammi on his knee. “I’ll probably just wait until my voice comes back before I do anything soon.”

“Yeah. So- Henry.”

Henry wedged himself between them, head resting on his front legs.

”D- Do you mind?”

Seán defended him. ”You’re a perfectly good boy.” He patted his head. So did Sammi. “You’re doing great, sweetie.”

“Yeah, you are.” Mark resumed his outro. “So anyway, thank you everybody so much for watching. And as always, we will see you in the next video.”

Seán lifted Sammi’s arm.

“Buh-bye!”

“Bye!” Seán waved her hand. “Say ‘Bye, guys!’ Bye!”


End file.
